


Rule #1 is... / The Murders at Killeen Mansion Q&A

by write_light



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Curses, Idiots in Love, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, The Ghoul Boys (Buzzfeed Unsolved)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28378086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_light/pseuds/write_light
Summary: What happens when you and your best friend find a cursed object in a creepy old house and all you have is a single memory left to save you? Unclear and yet very clear feelings and things left unsaid and you remember all of it, that's what.Coda: The Q&A episode that followed.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Rule #1 is... / The Murders at Killeen Mansion Q&A

10:00 p.m.

There were two other people left in Killeen Mansion, two too many for Shane (and coincidentally, two too many for the contract they’d signed, meaning Shane and Ryan had to be entrusted with cameras and unsupervised food).

“Go, we’ve got this,” Shane said, confidence hiding frustration.

“Rule #1 is get every camera set, every mic set-“ TJ replied, only to be interrupted by Ryan.

“Rule #1 is make sure you left us enough food. That’s clearly not enough,” he gestured at a loaded craft table they’d set up in the kitchen.

“That’s enough to last both of you a week- well a weekend, anyway,” Devon sighed.

Shane was wandering off already and Ryan was tugged toward him by the same invisible string that always pulled them closer.

“Rule #1 is let us be,” Shane said from far down the corridor, Ryan halfway toward him shrugging in fake sympathy at TJ, a ‘what-can-I-do-about-him?’ look on his face.

“We’ll be back at ten tomorrow morning!” Devon called down the muffling hallway as Shane waved back without turning around and Ryan jogged to catch up with him.

11:30 p.m.

Three floors cleared already, from the boring basement to the oddly chilly kitchen where they had eaten first dinner, one of the three grand meals Ryan had outlined in great detail, and now, the upstairs. No ghosts, ghouls, or other haunts. Yet.

There were two people left in the house now, the only two that mattered, and things were afoot – sounds, sights, scares and giggles, Shane’s eyes on Ryan but darting away when Ryan felt them.

“Spirits, time to show up!” Shane intoned in the upstairs bedroom where a brutal murder had occurred a century before.

“Man, they’ll come for us, no need to invite death,” Ryan said, trying to play it as a humor but betrayed by his voice.

“Ryan has your invites, if that’s the issue-“

“Shut up, dude,” he pleaded. “No invitations, not from me,” he said to the room at large.

“How many murders here?”

“Just the one. The husband claimed ‘the voices made him do it’ but he couldn’t remember anything else.”

“A likely story. This bedroom is a snooze.” He zoomed in on Ryan’s face as he said that, waiting for the reaction. _There it is. The squint, the swallow, the ripple of Ricky Goldsworth coming to the surface._

“Well then, the attic is all we have left,” Ryan said slowly, darkly.

“Yeah, the attic. Okay. You first.”

The small staircase led up along the wall toward a tiny door that had no business being there, like something out of the Winchester Mystery House.

11:35 p.m.

The attic door swung open and banged hard on something, swinging back shut just as Ryan was working up the courage to step in. He backed up hard, right into Shane’s camera and Shane’s arms and Shane’s warm curses as he tried not to fall down the steps himself.

“Open it very slowly this time.”

“You think? You think that’ll do it? When the ghost pushes it shut the first time, he’ll be cool about it if I just open it slow?"

“It’s just us here,” Shane said, planning for it to be bone-chilling, but it came out sweet and affectionate and Ryan leaped away from him, laughing again.

The door creaked loudly this time, making Ryan swear under his breath. It hit the same obstruction and they had to squeeze through one at a time into the pitch black.

“Get the light in here!” Ryan begged.

“Let’s take a look at whatev-“ Shane said before his voice died.

11:39 p.m.

It loomed, swallowing the light from Shane’s tiny videocam, and most of Ryan’s bravado with it.

“Jesus it’s taller than _you_ ,” Ryan whispered.

“Let’s uncover it!”

“What?”

“It’s what we do.”

“Yeah. Okay. You take one side and I’ll take the other…”

“3-2-1 Tug!” said Shane, and they were briefly blinded and dust-choked and no longer alone.

11:40 p.m.

“A mirror?”

“It’s creepy as fuck.”

“You know, they have to edit _some_ of those out.”

“It’s _fucking_ creepy as _fuck_ ,” Ryan insisted.

“It’s a mirror. In a really ugly frame.”

“What’s that on the side there?” Ryan asked, pointing.

“It’s on this side too,” Shane noted, moving closer as Ryan did.

“Are those…” Ryan asked.

“Teeth?”

The question slipped from both their mouths simultaneously, as they touched the cold metal.

The camera broke as it hit the floor, and Shane landed on some of the pieces. Ryan’s legs folded and he fell across Shane.

The attic was inky blackness again, but the mirror reflected light from somewhere. There were boys in the attic, and boys on the other side of the mirror, equally dead to their world.

/--/

5:38 a.m.

Ryan nuzzled into the soft pillow and relaxed, then felt the pillow breathing.

He squeaked as he scrambled back and away. The windows of the attic were tiny but no longer utterly black; a deep blue light showed him the pillow was a tall man, too tall, with a huge head, too huge. Ryan rubbed his eyes and shook himself awake, then watched in growing horror as the tall man’s spidery limbs began to flex. He made a low moaning noise.

Ryan tried to recall where he was but nothing looked familiar – a tiny, close attic, a giant mirror in a toothy frame, a heap of cloth at the foot of it, and darkness. And a stranger.

5:39 a.m.

Shane woke to a squeal and kicks. He tried to roll over but his legs were still rubbery and his right arm hung there asleep. Something under him poked its sharpest corners into him as he rolled and caught sight of a small unshaven man in a very snug shirt and hoodie, eyes wide with fear.

“Who are you?”

“Who the fuck are _YOU_? Where’s Shane?” the man in the hoodie called out.

The bobble-headed spider-man had drawn his legs up and was holding them close to his chest with one arm.

“Who the hell is Shane, and who are YOU?” he asked of the odd man in the shadows, then turned his head to call “Ryan? RYAN?”

5:45 a.m.

“Okay, so we’ve stared at each other for a good five minutes and not killed each other yet,” Shane commented in the deep blue darkness of the attic.

“And we don’t know who we are, like at all, that’s the really key part of this,” Ryan countered.

“Do you have any theories?”

“I have a friend named Shane. I feel like he should be here. He’s always there when I get scared.”

“You shouldn’t get scared. I mean, unless you’re alone in a dark attic with a stranger and you have amnesia.”

“Dude, fuck you,” Ryan said softly.

“My friend Ryan-“ Shane started, then stopped, unable to find the word for what he was feeling. “I don’t want him to be missing, is all. He’s part of my life.”

“Sounds like you love him.”

“I do. I mean, he’s got a girlfriend. But we click.”

The room was silent for a good thirty seconds.

“What are we doing in here?” Shane asked.

“Is there a light switch?”

Shane looked around and tried to stand, shakily. Something crunched underfoot and he bent to feel a sharp metal edge.

“I just stepped on a phone. Shit I hope it’s not mine.”

“That’s not a phone, that’s a videocam,” Ryan noted. “Why are you videotaping an attic?”

“Ghosts, probably.”

“What?” Ryan’s voice went up a bit too high.

“Ghosts aren’t real," Shane added calmly.

“They fucking are.”

“Ryan… thinks ghosts are… Dammit I had a thought there, it almost made sense.”

“Were we drugged?”

“Or was it aliens?” Shane laughed.

“Not funny. You shouldn’t joke about alien abduction when –”

“When what?” Shane retorted, ready to argue but not clear why.

“I don’t know. I just lost the thought too.”

5:56 a.m.

“I’m hungry,” Ryan muttered in the silent, thought-filled attic.

They’d been searching their memories and finding nothing but a name and a need.

“And I need a pee break,” Shane said, as if it were a decisive moment.

Ryan’s eyes were on Shane, but the one in the mirror – watching him think, rub his face, go blank, then repeat. It seemed more polite to stare at this man in the mirror than at the stranger right in front of him.

Shane’s head snapped up, eyes directly on Ryan, who moved his own eyes awkwardly from the mirror to the man just three feet away.

“Ryan would have a theory.”

“Shane would know what to do,” Ryan responded.

“So let’s get our shit together and take stock.”

“We have amnesia in an attic. I could be a psycho killer,” Shane said bluntly.

“You’re not. You would have done something already. I’d be dead.”

“I also have enormous self-restraint,” Shane added. “I need it around Ryan. He says worrying crap like that.”

“You’re forgetting _that_ ,” Ryan added, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head that way, as if the mirror were listening and might overhear.

They stood up and both reached out for it, Ryan leaving a smudge on the glass, Shane running his hand down the frame.

“Are those teeth?” Shane asked, touching what looked like fangs along the side of the mirror.

“Jesus why?” Ryan hissed.

“The better to –“

“I swear to God.”

5:58 a.m.

“Did we touch this mirror before?”

“Did you?” Shane replied, his fingertips touching the fingertips of mirror-Shane.

“I am not the kind of person who touches fanged mirrors…”

“Well, that’s good.”

“But, what if we did?” Ryan asked, touching the glass again.

“Okay, that sounds like a very drunk detective running out of theories."

“It’s still a theory,” Ryan bristled.

5:59 a.m.

“So we touched it and what, fell asleep for 100 years?” Shane asked.

“Do you know what year it is, Sleeping Beauty? Cuz I don’t.”

The cloth covering the mirror slid all the way off into a heap on the floor and they jumped, grabbing each other’s free hand. The light was bluer than blue now; pre-dawn royal blue saturated everything.

“If you don’t stop holding my hand-“ Ryan started and was shocked when Shane finished the thought:

“- people will say we’re-“

“-married” they finished, eyes on each other, fingers slipping down the glass, uncertain about every last thing in the universe, and then lost in darkness again.

/--/

10:04 a.m.

The door banged open and Steven, panic-loud, called back over his shoulder “I found them!! … What the fuck are you two doing up here?”

Shane was nuzzled into Ryan’s chest, enjoying the rhythmic breathing and the arm around him until it jolted at Steven’s yelling and he was left to push himself up on his elbows in the bright light of the large windows lining the dining room.

“We were – “ Ryan started, not sure.

“How did we get out of the attic?” Shane asked softly, blinking in the light of day.

“Jesus, what time is it?” Ryan asked.

“Ten! And you didn’t eat? And the camera’s smashed? We’ll be lucky to get any footage. The rental was for one night and you got nothing? Were you cuddling the entire time?”

“We were in the attic,” Ryan said, as if it could explain things.

“The attic,” Shane agreed softly, but only Ryan heard it.

“The mirror…” they said, looking at each other.

“There is no attic in this place! The top floor is bedrooms, and the crawlspace has no access. It was IN THE BRIEFING. There is no haunted attic in Killeen Mansion. You literally just broke the camera and fell asleep in a pile in the dining room. Rule #1 is read the briefings for every shoot.”

“New Rule #1,” Shane whispered, “Don’t touch –“ and now Ryan finished for him, with him, word for word – “… cursed objects.”

10:05 a.m.

“I was right,” Ryan smiled and then cringed. “I hate that I was right.”

“And _I_ hate that you were right,” Shane whispered back.

“You two!” Steven said and stormed out to join Devon on the phone with the Mansion’s caretaker.

TJ tended to the remains of the camera, hoping they’d caught something, anything.

10:45 a.m.

‘There was an attic,” Ryan said quietly to Shane as Steven drove them home.

“There was,” Shane agreed quietly with 99% confidence.

“And now there just isn’t?” Ryan asked.

“I _absolutely_ hate that you were right about the supernatural this one time.”

Ryan was just staring at him, not even gloating.

“I’m just glad you were there with me,” Ryan said softly.

“And I’m very pleased that you’re _still_ here with me,” Shane echoed.

END

CODA

“Are we doing this?”

“Yes, clearly, I’m sitting right here.”

“Oh- okayyy be that way.”

* * *

“This week we’re answering your questions about the episode _The Macabre Murders at Killeen Mansion_.”

“Macab-“

“Macabrr,” Ryan responds, “We did this bit already.”

“Macabbuh.”

Ryan glares, then starts: “We almost didn’t air this episode-“

“We almost didn’t have an episode to air!”

Ryan laughs.

“That’s right. Because Shane broke the camera.”

“Right, that’s the reason.” 

Shane side-eyes Ryan.

Ryan turns all his focus to Shane.

“Are we gonna…? No? No. Not gonna share. Okay, first question. This comes from our YouTube page… user ALotta_Snow asks: “Why were you guys hardly in that episode and only filming outside in the day time? _#buzzfeedunsolved #shaniac5eva_ "

“Well, Alotta, there is missing footage, let’s say,” Shane admits.

“And a really strict rental contract that we apparently violated.”

Silence as they both nod into the camera.

“Now a question from Gram-Town! Killy-Kill-Kill23 wants to know, Ryan-”

“Oh, me?”

“Yes, you. ‘Ryan, you mentioned an attic space but there’s no attic. I know because I went on the tour last year.’ _#accuracymatters #ryan’shoodieislife_ ”

“Yeah, so….” Ryan’s voice dies out.

“There may or may not be an attic, but perhaps you were on a different tour.”

“There was an attic” Ryan insists softly.

“Yes, there was,” Shane whispered back, then looked up at the camera, at full volume: “But there may or may not be an attic, probably due to renovations or some shit. Or a curse.”

“Thanks for the hoodie shoutout; I like it too,” Ryan preens.

“How about another question, Ryan?”

“Did you really NOT eat all that food? The table got a full two minutes of the episode and you two where there all night and I’ve seen how much Ryan can fit in his mouth. _#notboogara-justplainboooo_ ”

Ryan laughs.

“We’ve all seen how much he can fit in there,” Shane notes quietly.

Ryan laughs way too long, has a visibly naughty thought and laughs even longer. 

Shane blushes.

“So, here – here’s the thing,” Ryan explains, attempting seriousness. “We didn’t live up to our own standards and the episode as a result was a little text heavy and light on the ghoul boys, and like I said, Shane did break the camera.”

“And in my defense, I shouldn’t be trusted with cameras at all, but the mansion has a very stringent-“

“and restrictive”

“That what stringent means, Ryan. -stringent policy about how many web series cast members can stay over and clearly if I stay over, Ryan does too. There’s no one without the other.”

“Awww”

“ _Awww-ful_ that TJ couldn’t take care of the camera. Also, I may have fainted, but that’s another episode.”

“Ooooh, that would – we could do-“

“No. Not going back there, no more touching mirrors and finish-“

“-ishing each others’ sentences.”

They freeze, locked on each other's eyes, for a good five seconds.

“No, you’re right,” Ryan finally admits.

“Last question – ‘wheezeyswizardwheezes: What’s the secret of your friendship? I have a friend and we hang out a lot and I wanna tell him how much I respect him and wanna keep hangin’, like you two. I just want a dude to enjoy life with, find cursed objects in hidden dimensions...' ...what the fuck?" Shane wheezes.

Silence.

“You picked that one?” Ryan asks.

“I did not. I assumed you-”

“What? I didn’t pick it! Jesus, get it off your phone.”

“It’s definitely not from the demon in the mirror.”

“I’m still not answering it!”

" _still?_ , so you _would_ answer a question from a cursed mirror-"

Ryan bats the phone away as Shane grasps for it.

“NEXT WEEK we’ll be back with a much better episode,” Ryan promises.

“But not scarier.”

“Yes, way scarier, because it has footage of you in it.”

“Fair enough.”

END

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Shane/Ryan fic ever, so I welcome crit, tips, and really hope I did the boys justice.


End file.
